


Far beneath the skin, it rumbles

by tsurakutemo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Slight Humilation, tao in panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakutemo/pseuds/tsurakutemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Zitao needs a little help to feel like he's being good. Minseok is always there to offer it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far beneath the skin, it rumbles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really, really iffy about posting this bc while I like it, I'm a bit like... what if other people don't lmao :( but it came to me quite sudden and I just felt like I had to write it. This is unbetaed, I read through it only once after finishing it up, so if there are any mistakes I'm sorry, feel free to point them out!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://disgruntledsuho.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.

It's just the two of them in the dorm when Zitao wakes up from his nap. Yixing is in China, but Jongdae should be here. He has probably gone up to the K dorm to hang out with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Minseok is sat on the sofa watching TV, but he looks up and smiles at Zitao when he walks in.

“I asked Jongdae to stay with the others for a few hours,” he says and pats the spot next to him, so Zitao is quick to join him, snuggling into his side. The residual sleepiness from his nap still stays with him, and it's nice here, warm, with Minseok's arm around him and the low voices coming from the TV.

“I thought we could spend some time together, just you and me.”

His hand is running through Zitao's hair, dragging his nails over his scalp and Zitao just hums.

“Are you okay?” Minseok asks, nosing against his cheek and temple. “You were so distant today. Unfocused.”

“I didn't mean to be,” Zitao says quietly, peering at him. “I... It's hard. Sometimes. I feel like I'm about to... Like I'm too big for my skin.”

It sounds awkward to him, but Minseok seems to understand because he's nodding. “I can help you, if you want,” he offers. “It's only been two days since last time, but it wasn't enough for you, was it?”

“No,” Zitao mumbles, embarrassed, ducking his head to try and hide. “I want–”

“You want?” Minseok repeats, when no more words are forthcoming.

Zitao hides his face against the elder's shoulders.

“I want you to make me work for it,” he whispers, like it's a secret. “Make me good.”

“That's right,” Minseok says and nods. “You weren't very good today.”

Zitao whines, hunching in on himself.

“But I'll help you.” Minseok tilts his head back, smiles at him kindly. “Go to my room. There's a present for you.”

 

Zitao feels awkward standing in the kitchen, feels too tall for the room. He shivers, because he isn't wearing anything but the panties Minseok picked out for him. Minseok notices, of course.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” Zitao answers, though most of the shivering comes more from the apprehension and excitement he feels, the two emotions warring inside him. “I'm okay.”

“Good,” Minseok says. He tosses a rag at Zitao's feet. “On all fours. Clean the floor. I want it spotless.”

“Yes, gēge.”

He picks up the rag and gets a bucket, has done this before, goes through the motion until he has to get on all fours to start. Minseok leaves the room, leaving him to it, and Zitao kneels down and rubs at the tiles with the rag. Exactly how spotless Minseok wants it depends a lot on his mood. Sometimes it's enough to just remove all the visible spots, other times he comes in and spills things on purpose, makes Zitao clean it up with his tongue sometimes too, if it's safe.

Minseok checks on him a few times, humming either in approval or disapproval, until Zitao finally calls out a “I'm done.” and waits for Minseok to check.

Minseok stands in the kitchen, gaze scrutinizing as he first looks at Zitao and then at the floor. “Zitao,” he says, firm. “Come here.”

His voice is hard, and Zitao crawls closer, waits for what he's going to say. Hopes Minseok will approve, tell him what to do next. Maybe it isn't enough, and Minseok will tell him, _command_ him, to scrub until his hands are sore, or tell him to bend over the kitchen table so that Minseok can spank him for not doing well enough.

And it's- It's not a thing, not always. He doesn't like being told to do things during practice, doesn't like the slight humiliation that comes from being told he's done something wrong in front of other people, but-

Here, in the kitchen on all fours wearing nothing but a pair of blue lace panties, it's different. When Minseok looks down at him and toes at a stain on the floor and looks _disappointed_ , Zitao relishes in the sting he feels. Because he isn't good enough, but Minseok will help. Minseok will make him good, will make it all alright again.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, crawls forwards to rub at the stain with the cloth in his hands, and Minseok hums.

“Don't miss it next time. I'm adding this to your tally.”

The tally, aka the amount of spankings Zitao is going to get at the end of the week. He loves it, loves being put in his place because once it's over, Minseok has forgiven him for all his mistakes and they can start anew, clean.

Zitao just nods and makes sure there are no more stains, works until Minseok is satisfied. Minseok makes him crawl all the way to the sofa to prove that he can, and it isn't very far, but the tile floor followed by wooden is painful on his knees.

When he reaches the sofa, Minseok helps him up so that he can sit next to him, rubs at his red knees while Zitao leans into his side. This is always nice, a gift when they play, but Zitao can't help but be impatient. He squirms now and then, pressing further into Minseok's side, reaches out to touch the skin where his shirt rides up. Minseok lets out a sharp breath, and it shouldn't mean anything, but Zitao knows it means that he's getting fed up, and a small thrill runs through him.

“Stay still or you're back on your knees.” Minseok warns. Zitao nods, but forgets about it soon, turning his head to nuzzle into Minseok's neck.

“Gēge,” he breathes, tongue peeking out to lick across the skin there, “gēge, please.”

Minseok reaches out and grips his hair painfully, stopping his attempt at sucking a mark there by pulling his head back.

“On the floor.” he says, and practically drags him down. Zitao goes all too willingly, lands hard on his knees and it hurts, but he doesn't care now. Will regret it later, after resting, when they hurt and he has nothing else to focus on, but here, now, he just licks his lips and look up.

Minseok gives him a disinterested glance and focuses on the TV, but he does reach down to pop open the button on his slacks. He stops there, and Zitao finished it for him, pulls the zipper down and tug his pants off when he lifts up.

He isn't even hard, but Zitao knows how to make him, even if he has to work for it. He leans in and makes sure his mouth is wet with spit as he starts to lick over his head, holding his cock by the base and paying attention to the slit, knows Minseok likes it.

Zitao likes it more, loves sucking cock, has been praised for it more than once by Minseok who always, always marvels when he takes him in deep. Zitao doesn't think there's much better than the feeling of a cock hardening in your mouth, knowing you did that, you made him want you.

He moans around him when Minseok's cock does start to plump up, and Minseok isn't saying anything but Zitao knows all his tells. The way his grip tightens around the arm of the sofa, the way his thighs tense.

“Hands off.” Minseok orders when Zitao starts to pump him while licking at the head, pulling the foreskin back, and Zitao moves his hands away. He keeps them behind his back, instead, clasped at the wrists to keep from touching him or himself. His own cock is hard, has been since Minseok told him to go put his panties on, laid out on Minseok's bed.

Now, though, he can feel himself throbbing, knows he's leaving a wet spot at the front.

He focuses on bobbing up and down, taking Minseok as far as he can go and swallowing, pulls back and feels his cock twitch when he uses his tongue to push it up to rub at the roof of his mouth. He wants to make Minseok come, has to focus so as not to come himself.

He's done it before, come almost just from sucking Minseok off, his hips only humping forwards for minor friction before he came when Minseok pulled out and came over his face. Minseok doesn't like it, though. Doesn't want Zitao to come before he decides it's time.

“That's good,” Minseok sighs, reaches out to run a hand through Zitao's hair. “Very good.”

Zitao _loves_ being praised, and for it to come this early must mean he really is being good. He preens, redoubles his effort, sucking tight and wet around Minseok's cock and listening to his heavy breathing. The taste of precome mixes with his spit and Zitao lets it dribble down to get everything wet, because Minseok likes that, too. Likes when things are messy.

He's clearly trying to hold back, really make Zitao work for it, and Zitao does so eagerly. He focuses on the tip, presses fluttering kisses to the head and humming, digs his tongue into the slit and looking up at Minseok with hooded eyes.

Minseok spits a curse and shoves him back, curls a hand around his cock and jerks himself languidly. “Open your mouth.” he murmurs, focusing on Zitao's parted lips, the peek of tongue when he licks them. Saliva gathers the longer Zitao has to stay like this, his mouth watering because he knows Minseok is going to come in his mouth, and it pools to drip past his lips and down his chin.

“You're so fucking filthy,” Minseok groans and strokes himself faster, digs his nail into the slit and comes with another groan, making sure to get as much as possible of it into Zitao's mouth, some of it staining his lips and chin.

“Don't swallow.” he says sharply, even as he sits back and lets go, closing his eyes and breathing in deep.

Zitao stays the way he is, squirming in place because he wants to swallow so badly, wants to keep some of it in his mouth to give back, even, trade wet filthy kisses until Minseok deigns him good enough to be allowed to come.

Minseok finally sighs and runs a hand over his eyes, sits up to look down at him. He dips a finger into the come in his mouth, smears it along with what didn't make it past his lips to make his chin, his cheeks, glossy.

“Filthy.” he hums. “You can swallow.”

Zitao does, has to swallow more than once to get it all down, and he moans, tempted to just rub against Minseok's leg until he comes.

Minseok pats his lap and he scrambles up to sit, Minseok's hands on his ass steadying him, squeezing his ass cheeks through his panties, snaps the elastic against his skin. They're slightly tight, leave red marks where they run across the crease of his thighs, and Minseok spanks him once. Zitao jumps and whimpers, pressing close, trying to make himself small and put his head underneath Minseok's chin.

“Gēge,” he whispers, kissing his throat. “Gēge.”

“What do you want?” Minseok asks, running his fingertips over the fabric of his panties over and over. “Do you want to come? Want to make yourself messy?”

“Uh huh.” Zitao whines slightly in his throat. “I want that. I wanna be messy, wanna be a mess.”

Minseok chuckles and kisses his cheek before reaching down, running his palm up and down Zitao's cock trapped in the panties, the head peeking over the edge.

Zitao moans and thrusts up, trying to press harder against his hand.

“Please,” he gasps, gripping his shoulders and pressing his forehead against his neck.

“So cute.” Minseok says, presses two of his fingertips over the head and rubs, torturously slow. Zitao twists in his lap, wants more, but can't ask for it. It hurts in a good way, precome making everything wet, dribbling out of his slit as Minseok teases.

He sobs, toes curling. “Please, gē, please, haven't I been good? I've been good, right, I made you come.”

“You did,” Minseok agrees slowly. “But good boys don't ask to come, do they? They wait until they're allowed.”

“I'm sorry,” Zitao sobs, “I'm sorry, I'm good, I'm good for you.”

“You are,” Minseok agrees and reaches into the panties, curls his hand into a loose fist for Zitao to fuck. “Go on then, get yourself off.”

“Thank you,” Zitao gasps wetly and fucks into his fist. It's too loose for proper friction, but Zitao doesn't care, just bucks his hips, digging his nails into Minseok's shoulders as he works to get himself off. It's a tight fit now, with Minseok's hand inside the panties, too, the linings cutting into his skin, but the slight pain of it only spurs him on.

“Please,” he says again, whines, loud. “please, Minseok? I just need a little more, please,”

Minseok seems to consider it, but then nods. “Okay.”

He tightens his fist and Zitao keens, humping into his hand.

“Tell me when you're about to come,” Minseok orders and Zitao can barely find it in himself to nod to show he's heard him, wants needs craves to come, so close already but he just needs a little more, he just doesn't know what.

Minseok's other hand moves back and squeezes his ass, pulls one cheek aside, fingers sliding beneath the edge and inching closer to his hole and Zitao moans.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants, a mantra, tries to wriggle to get Minseok's fingers where he wants them. Minseok's watching his expression, his own face void of any, his index finger finally coming to press against his hole, circle the rim.

“Gēge,” Zitao gasps, “I'm gonna, I'm gonna come.”

“Good.” Minseok answers and pulls his hand out of Zitao's panties, presses his palm against Zitao's cock and rubbing hard. Zitao chokes on his own spit and comes between one breath and the next. It soaks into the panties, staining them darker, and Zitao's mouth is open in a soundless cry.

He finally sags, panting, whimpering quietly as the pleasure lingers.

“Stand up,” Minseok says and urges Zitao to his feet. His legs are wobbly, but he stays standing in front of Minseok, his chest still heaving. Minseok isn't unaffected, his cock half-hard, but he seems uninterested in doing anything about it.

“Panties off.”

Zitao pushes them down and steps out of them, giving Minseok an uncertain look.

“Pick them up and give them here,” Minseok says and smiles, and Zitao does so. They're stained with Zitao's come, still wet, and Minseok pets his lap again.

Zitao scrambles to comply, smiling at Minseok who smiles back.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs and Zitao does. Minseok stuffs the panties into his mouth, makes sure they're not too deep, and Zitao lets out a muffled moan.

Minseok runs his hands up and down his thighs, soothing. “You good?” he asks. Zitao nods, breathing hard through his nose, and Minseok laughs.

“You're so cute,” he says and pets at Zitao's cheeks. “You've been so good.”

Zitao preens around his temporary gag, pressing closer in a wordless request. Minseok presses several kisses to his cheeks before he reaches down to run his fingertips up and down his cock, sometimes brushing over the tip and making his hips jerk. Zitao shakes his head, wide-eyed, but doesn't move.

“You remember what to do if you want to stop,” Minseok says, watching him carefully. “You pinch me if you don't want to anymore.”

Zitao nods, but his fingers just dig into his own thighs, trying to control his own breathing. It hurts, a little, he's sensitive, but it rerouts somewhere in his body, turns into pleasure too, makes his cock twitch and harden again the longer Minseok keeps going.

Zitao squeezes his eyes shut, the panties in his mouth getting damper with his breath and spit as he tries to stay still.

“You've been very good, I want to reward you,” Minseok says and smiles. “Sit on the sofa, please.”

Zitao nods and complies, sliding of Minseok's lap and settling down, his feet on the floor. Minseok gets up and steps between his legs and then sinks to his knees.

Zitao stares, because Minseok very, very rarely does this for him, doesn't like sucking cock much, but that he does it for Zitao now must mean he's been really, really good and he moans just at the sight of it.

Minseok rests his hands on Zitao's thighs and leans in, breathes hotly over his cock before taking him into his mouth. Zitao nearly knees him in the chest, jerking at the wet heat and he groans behind the panties.

Minseok's always got this no-nonsense approach to things, sucking cock included, but it feels good. Zitao whimpers, holding tightly onto Minseok's shoulder with one hand, biting the other to muffle his noises. Minseok pulls off in a long, slow drag and looks up at him. “You good?”

Zitao nods and buries his hand in his own hair instead, tugging hard when Minseok takes his cock back into his mouth, getting him proper wet with spit.

He moans when Minseok's teeth grazes just briefly, a small flash of pain that only serves to spur him on, trying to encourage him to do it again, nodding quickly when Minseok glances up again.

Minseok does do it again, wraps his hand around the base and pumps as his teeth graze the tip.

Zitao sobs, wants more, wants to thrust into Minseok's mouth and come down his throat, but he can't, can just take it, he has to be good for him and listen to him.

Minseok hums around his dick and Zitao squeezes his eyes shut. He can't help it, rocks his hips and pushes into Minseok's mouth. Minseok doesn't stop, thankfully, thoughe does give Zitao a warning look before he sucks hard. Zitao bites down on the panties, can't stop moaning, and Minseok pulls off and keeps jerking him off.

“Come on, Taozi,” he says and smiles, ducking down to lick at his balls, suck them into his mouth. His teeth graze again, and–”

Zitao trashes when he comes this time around, digging his fingers into Minseok's shoulder, the other hand grasping on the back of the sofa as he arches and lets out a long, muffled moan. Minseok's guided his cock upwards so he comes over his own stomach, pooling in his belly button.

“There you are,” Minseok says and carefully lets go of his cock, getting to his feet. Zitao's dazed, peers up at him and blinking when Minseok holds his hand out.

“Panties,” he says, and Zitao finally tugs them out. He makes a face, licks his lips, and Minseok laughs. The panties are completely ruined and he uses them to dab a bit at the come, but that just makes it worse. He frowns. “Wait a little.”

He disappears through the doorway, but comes back soon after with a wet cloth and a towel, cleans Zitao up with care and then himself. He's gone again, and when he comes back he's got Zitao's clothes, but he gets his own jeans back on before he helps wrestle Zitao into his.

Zitao grumbles, but allows Minseok to move him how he likes, pliant.

 

When Jongdae comes back they're both on the sofa, Zitao sleeping with his head in Minseok's lap. Minseok puts a finger to his lips and Jongdae just nods, leaning against the back rest.

“What did you get up to?” he asks, and Minseok just shrugs.

“Nothing interesting.” he answers and tries not to smile as he looks down at Zitao briefly before looking away. Absolutely nothing interesting at all.

 


End file.
